Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (102 page)

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Authors: Diane Capri,J Carson Black,Carol Davis Luce,M A Comley,Cheryl Bradshaw,Aaron Patterson,Vincent Zandri,Joshua Graham,J F Penn,Michele Scott,Allan Leverone,Linda S Prather

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Thrillers

BOOK: Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers
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Carol nodded and stood up, too. “As sure as day follows night in the circle of life. If you want to go over there, Lorne, we can go together. I’ll drive you.”

“I have to go, Tony. To see for myself. Would you, Carol? That’d be so kind of you. I’ll need to ring the hospital first to see how Dad is.”

Tony bent to kiss her on the cheek. “Leave the hospital to me. I’ll ring while you get yourself ready.”

“Thanks, hon. Carol, I’ll be ready in five minutes.” With regained strength, Lorne ran out of the room. Upstairs in the bedroom, she changed her clothes for the third time that morning. She put on another set of clean working clothes, thinking that she wouldn’t want to ruin her best jeans if she had cause to climb the fence at the girls’ flat.

#

Approximately five minutes later, Lorne and Carol set off.

The midday autumn sun filled the car with warmth. Despite that, Lorne couldn’t prevent the shudders from making her twitch.

“I’m sorry, Lorne,” Carol said quietly.

“I feel so guilty now, for placing Blackie there. All he ever wanted was a home, a decent home he could feel settled in. Now this. I’m not disbelieving you, Carol, but just this once, I hope your vision proves to be wrong.”

Carol let out a long breath. “So do I. Hey, we need to have a chat later about me adopting one of your strays. That was the real reason behind my visit today. I had no idea this was in the cards.”

“Of course. I’m sorry. I’d love you to have one of the dogs. I know it will be well cared for. Actually, I think I have just the dog for you: a Yorkie whose owner had to go in a nursing home. Nelly came in last week. I’ll introduce you when we get back if you like?”

“Another small dog sounds ideal. I wasn’t really after a large dog.” Carol fed the steering wheel through her hands to manoeuvre around the upcoming roundabout.

“One thing is puzzling me, Carol. When you rang last night, you hinted that you wanted to chat about the case. Did you see Blackie’s demise then?”

“Goodness, no! I would’ve told you something like that instantly. No, I mainly wanted to warn you that the girls need to be aware of this man. A word of caution: I’m not sure you should discuss with them what I told you about him being found not guilty. You never know how people will react to news they don’t want to hear.”

“I understand. We’ll keep it between us for now.”

“You know if I can be of any help in the future with any cases, you only have to shout.” Carol glanced sideways at Lorne and smiled the briefest of smiles.

Wow! What an outfit we would be—an ex-DI, an invalid former MI6 agent, a retired ex-DCI, my teenage daughter, and a psychic.

“I’ll bear it in mind. Thanks, Carol.” Lorne pointed ahead of her. “The road we want is the next turning on your left.”

Carol turned into the road and awaited further instructions.

“This is the house.” Before Carol could apply the handbrake, Lorne had leapt out of the car and was bolting down the alley that ran alongside the side of the flat. She searched the fence for a possible weak panel to gain access to the garden. There wasn’t one; all she found was a hole approximately five inches round, too small for anyone to fit through. There was no other option left open to her than to climb the fence.

She moved over to where two of the panels met and joined to a post and pulled herself up on to the top of the fence, where she balanced precariously for a second or two before she dropped down onto the grass on the other side. She ran over to the patio doors.

Peering through the window, she spotted Blackie lying prostrate on the living room floor. His eyes were wide open. There was blood and foamy saliva around his mouth and on the floor close to his head.

Lorne followed her first instinct to knock on the window to see if there was any reaction from the dog. Nothing.

Suspecting he’d been poisoned, Lorne retraced her steps and searched the garden for any incriminating evidence. Finally, by the gap in the fence she’d discovered earlier, she found a few scraps of beef.

“Lorne. Are you there?” Carol called from the other side of the fence.

“Do you have a plastic bag on you, Carol? A carrier bag, anything like that?”

“Yes, I have one in the car. I’ll be right back.” Lorne heard Carol’s footsteps quicken and fade on the concrete path; moments later, she heard them increase again with the woman’s return. Lorne put her hand through the gap and wiggled it. “Here, Carol.”

The bag rustled as Lorne picked up the remnants of what she perceived to have been Blackie’s final meal. Then she scrambled back over the fence, landing safely back on the other side. Holding up the bag, she said, “I think he was poisoned. Any chance you can give me a lift to the station?”

“Sure thing. Jump in. That poor creature; he suffered terribly. I wouldn’t share that with the girls if I were you. They’ll feel as guilty as you do.”

“I can’t help it. He was such a sweetheart. Can you remember the way?”

“I know he was. I think I can remember the way.”

They arrived at the station about half an hour later. Carol remained in the car while Lorne ran inside.

The officer on the front desk greeted her like an old friend. “Ms Simpkins. How nice to see you again.”

“Hello, John. I’m in kind of a hurry. Is DS Katy Foster around?”

He grimaced. “She left about five minutes ago. Can I help at all?”

“What about DCI Roberts—is he here?”

“Just a sec.” He picked up the phone and dialled. “I’ve got DI Simpkins here, sir. She’d like a word with you, if it’s convenient.” He paused, then said, “Righto, sir. I’ll tell her.”

Lorne looked at the desk sergeant hopefully.

He nodded. “He’ll be right down, ma’am… I mean, Lorne.”

“Fantastic.” She paced the area until Sean Roberts entered the room.

Everything appeared to stop for a minute or two as they stared at each other as she still felt guilty about walking away from his team.

“Lorne, you’re looking good, girl.” Sarcasm coloured his voice, and his gaze roamed over her unfashionable work clothes.

She held her arms out to the side and shrugged. “I guess you would call this my new uniform.”

Roberts smiled. “What can I do for you?”

Lorne held up the carrier bag.

“I hope that’s not what I think it is.” He sniffed the air.

She lifted her gaze to the ceiling in mock annoyance, and he laughed.

“No. It isn’t. Seriously, chief.”

He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to correct herself.

“Sorry, Sean. Any chance you can get this analysed for me? The case I’m working on—the rape case—I just found my clients’ dog dead. I found this at the scene, suspected poisoning.”

“Bloody hell. I’ll get on it straight away and ask them to get the results back ASAP. I’ll ring you later.” Roberts said to Lorne’s back, as she was already halfway out the door.

“Thanks, Sean. You’re my saviour. Gotta fly. Dad’s in hospital,” Lorne called back, using her father’s illness as a means of a quick getaway.

“Wait. Why?” he shouted after her.

“I’ll tell you later.” Lorne jumped back in Carol’s car, and they headed home. They were both silent for a while until Carol jolted her out of her contemplation.

“The girls will still need protection once he gets off the charges, Lorne.”

“In the next few days, we should know what will happen. I’ll have a word with my contact in the force to see if she can organise a patrol car to cruise the area as a deterrent.”

“Mark my words: He’s going to get off, either today or tomorrow. He won’t be foolish enough to go back to their home again after what happened to Blackie. He’ll try to set a trap for one of them.”

“Damn, I better ring Fiona when we get back to pre-warn her about Blackie. The girls are going to be shit scared after this.”

“How can we tell them to be careful without them worrying?” Carol asked, glancing sideways at Lorne.

“I don’t see how we can. Oh, God, what a bloody mess.”

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

Tony was incensed when Lorne told him how Blackie had died. He kicked the chair in the kitchen with his good leg and swore. “Fucking hell! If I get my hands on that bastard…”

Lorne ran a hand down his arm. “I’m gutted, too. I know this sounds harsh, but at the moment we have to brush Blackie’s death to one side and focus on helping—or should I say protecting—the girls.”

“Sorry. You’re right. What about having a word with Katy or Roberts to get them police protection?” He retrieved the chair he’d just kicked and threw himself into it.

Lorne shook her head dejectedly. “They won’t be eligible for that.”

“Do you think he did it personally? Or do you think he paid someone else to do it?” Tony asked, looking from Lorne to Carol.

Lorne shrugged, but Carol nodded. “He did it, most definitely. Heartless through and through, that one. Extremely dangerous, too. I know I keep saying that, but it’s the truth.”

Lorne slumped into a kitchen chair, put her elbows on the, table and rested her head on her clenched fists. “I just don’t know where we go from here,” she said in a defeated tone.

“You can pack that in,” Tony retorted. “I’ve never known you to give up on something, Lorne. We’ll think of something. All’s not lost. The jury might still find him guilty.” He glanced at Carol, who was vehemently shaking her head. “Let’s wait and see. You need to ring the girls immediately. I wonder if Fiona will give us a key. We could get Blackie out of there before the other girls see him.”

Lorne smiled at her husband and felt blessed to have him around to guide her in her newfound uncertain world. “Let me ring her and see.” She left the room and rang Fiona from the lounge. The young woman’s mobile rang and rang before it finally went into voicemail. She left a message. “Fiona, it’s Lorne. Please ring as soon as you get this message. It’s very important.”

Tony looked up expectantly when she walked back heavy footed into the kitchen. “Voicemail. Next idea?”

“Let’s check on how your father is. Then we’ll go over to the courthouse and get hold of Fiona that way,” Tony said, seemingly pleased as his rusty brain notched up a gear.

“Sounds like a plan, but you’re forgetting one thing.”

Tony raised a questioning eyebrow.

Lorne swept her arm open. “This place. After what happened with Blackie, I’m not keen on leaving the kennels unattended. I know Gibson’s in court at the moment, but you never know if he has an accomplice helping him do his dirty work.”

“He hasn’t, but I’ll stay here,” Carol offered with a smile. “It’ll be my pleasure, Lorne.”

“We couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“Nonsense. I have a free day today. Be off with you.” Carol shooed the pair of them out the back door.

Lorne fired off instructions over her shoulder. “Just make sure the dogs have enough water. No need to let them out; I’ll exercise them when we get back. Thanks, Carol.”

Once in the car and with Tony driving, she rang the hospital. The ward sister reassured her that her father had slept well during the night and that his vital signs had showed a vast improvement. But they still wanted to keep him in for observation, for a day or two, at least.

#

Lorne ran up the steps to the courtroom faster than Sylvester Stallone in the Rocky film. Inside, she glanced down the corridor to where she had sat the day before with the girls and saw Linda sitting there with a girl she didn’t know. Out of breath, Lorne asked, “Hi, Linda. Is Fiona around?”

“Lorne, what on earth are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story. Is Fiona here?” Lorne repeated. She smiled and tried to keep her voice calm, not wishing to cause Linda any unnecessary alarm.

Linda motioned with her head towards the door to the court. “Ami’s on the stand; Fiona is in there, giving her moral support.”

“Thanks, I’ll try to grab her attention. How are you holding up?”

“Getting there. We had a struggle with Ami yesterday. I walked into her bedroom, and she was packing an overnight bag. It took me nearly two hours to talk her out of going back to her parents, last night.”

“I can only imagine what the pair of you are going through right now, but if Ami hadn’t braved today, the case against him would have been seriously jeopardised.” She fidgeted, eager to get hold of Fiona.

“That’s what we told Ami last night. She seemed a little better this morning. I’m not sure how it’s going in there, though. Lorne, is everything all right? You seem agitated.”

“Sorry, hon. Need the loo. I’ll try to get Fiona’s attention. Talk soon.” Lorne promptly made her way back to the courtroom entrance. She opened the door and squeezed through.

The court usher looked her over and placed a finger to his lips. She nodded and scanned the visitors’ gallery for Fiona. After locating her in the second row, Lorne made her way over, all the while hearing Ami’s faint voice describe the events of what happened the night she was attacked by Gibson.

Fiona eyed her with startled concern when Lorne sat on the bench next to her. “What are you doing here?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

“I need to see you outside,” Lorne whispered urgently.

“But if I leave Ami now, she’ll crumble.”

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